


straight on till morning

by lyricalprose (fairylights)



Series: 2013 Fic Advent Calendar [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: 2013 Fic Advent Calendar, Alternate Universe - Peter Pan Fusion, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairylights/pseuds/lyricalprose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re quite mad, aren’t you?” Rose asked.</p><p>The boy grinned, and his teeth shone like knife-blades in the moonlight. “Yes,” he said brightly. “I believe that I am.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	straight on till morning

**Author's Note:**

> [naiadwrites](http://naiadwrites.tumblr.com) asked for a Peter Pan AU.
> 
> Fill #5 for my [2013 fic advent calendar](http://lyricalprose.tumblr.com/tagged/2013-fic-advent-calendar).

Rose Tyler woke to the sound of crying.  
  
The weeping came from a boy that she did not recognize, sitting on the sill of her open window. Rose was not frightened – she was not the type of child who frightened easily.  
  
“Boy,” she asked, not knowing what else to call him. “Why are you crying?”  
  
The boy looked up, startled, and the moonlight fell over his face in a very peculiar way. In one shaft of light, Rose was certain that he was thin and brown-eyed, with hair that stuck up and a freckled face. By the light of another, she was equally sure that he had very little hair at all, with blue eyes and large ears besides.  
  
“I was crying,” he said slowly, as if explaining something very simple to someone very young, “because I cannot get my shadow to stick back on.”  
  
Then he furrowed his eyebrows together and said, “Though now, I rather think it is because this is not the _right_ shadow. I have had quite a few of them, you see, and I am forever getting them confused.”  
“Why on earth should you have so many shadows?” Rose had always thought that a single shadow was quite enough to keep track of – to have more than one, she thought, seemed like the height of foolishness.  
  
“Well, some of them are the ones I’ve already had,” he said. “And some of them, of course, are ones that I _will_ have.”  
  
“You’re quite mad, aren’t you?” Rose asked.  
  
The boy grinned, and his teeth shone like knife-blades in the moonlight. “Yes,” he said brightly. “I believe that I am.”  
  
—-  
  
After the boy’s shadow had been sorted, there came a great clattering noise from within Rose’s dresser.  
  
The boy went over to investigate, and when he opened up the dresser a blue-and-gold light sprang forth, shining and sparkling and making irritable jingling noises.  
  
The boy simply laughed, untroubled, and said, “I had forgotten that I locked her up in the drawer!”  
  
The blue-and-gold light danced closer to Rose, and she asked, “Who is this, then?”  
  
“A fairy,” the boy said, as if fairies were as common as dogs, or fish, or the post. “ _My_ fairy.”  
  
“Does she have a name?” Rose inquired.  
  
“The other fairies said her name was Idris,” the boy said, “but I didn’t believe them. It doesn’t suit her.”  
  
Rose found, inexplicably, that she agreed. “What _is_ she called, then?”  
  
The boy’s ears went a bit pink at the tips, and he muttered, “I don’t call her anything. She’s my fairy, that’s all.”  
  
The fairy made another jangling noise, like a box full of bells being rolled down a staircase, and Rose found that she rather liked the sound. “What was that?” she asked.  
  
“She is calling me a silly ass,” he said, matter-of-factly.  
  
“Is that your name, then?” Rose asked impishly.  
  
The boy smiled widely at her, as though the bit of cheek was the cleverest thing he had ever heard. “No,” he said cheerfully, “though she might tell you so. I ran away the day I was born, you see, before they could give me a proper name.”  
  
“What does she call you, then?”  
  
The boy smiled. “Why, she calls me Doctor, of course.”  
  
“And what sort of name is that?”  
  
The boy wrinkled his nose. “Well, what sort of name have you got?” he asked, a bit sharply.  
  
“Rose Marion Tyler.”  
  
The Doctor, of course, had to admit that it was quite a good name.  
  
—  
  
“How did you get in here?” Rose asked, when the boy had gone back to the window-sill, where he leant up against it and took to staring at the sky.  
  
“Why, I flew, of course.”  
  
Rose joined him on the sill and asked, “Flew from where?”  
  
“Second to the right,” he said, pointing to a star, “and then straight on till morning.”  
  
“Could we go there?”  
  
“No,” the Doctor said, and for the first time Rose thought that he looked sad.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she remarked, because it seemed like it ought to be said.  
  
He sniffed and shook his head. “Nevermind about sorrys,” he said. “I’ll need to be off now, unless–” He turned to look at her, and his eyes – blue-brown-black-green-grey – shone, every moment a different shade. “You could come with me. How would _you_ like to fly, Rose?”  
  
“Fly? Me?” Rose was incredulous. “How would I do that?”  
  
“Why, it’s simple,” he said. “All you need is wonderful thoughts.” And with that he stepped off the window-sill and into the air.  
  
Rose gasped, and the Doctor reached out his hand, smiling. She reached out to take it, but stopped just short to ask, “ _Just_ wonderful thoughts?”  
  
“ _Well_ , and a bit of fairy dust,” he allowed. The fairy jangled about Rose’s head, leaving a trail of gold in her wake.  
  
“Is it dangerous?” Rose asked. “Couldn’t I fall?”  
  
“Yes,” the Doctor said, simply.  
  
Rose smiled, grasped his hand, and stepped out of the window.


End file.
